


Research Isn't Worth This

by akelios



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Buried Alive, Character Death, Claustrophobia, DFKM, Ghosts, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akelios/pseuds/akelios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dedication to school work is one thing. Travelling to a haunted island known for killing people is another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Research Isn't Worth This

**Author's Note:**

> The character death noted in the tags is not described in any detail within the fic. It is treated as an historic event. Also, the warnings for nightmares, claustrophobia and being buried alive refer to descriptions of a nightmare had by one of the OFCs. No one is actually buried alive within the fic. It's relatively harmless as fics go actually.

“ _Students of the events recounted within the Dresden Files have long speculated that the relationship between Baron Marcone and Warden Dresden was not merely a working one. Since their first encounter (5) the two men have a noticeable tension about their interactions that lends itself to such thoughts. _

_“Throughout their active careers these two great men had many romantic relationships with both men and women. However, none of these relationships ever lasted for any appreciable length of time. It has been concluded by many who have studied the extant records that their longest, deepest relationship was with one another. Some think that these speculations are premature, a reading into the text what was not intended by the author. The existing records cover only twenty-three years, and those years only partially. Certainly the claim that there may be much we are unaware of in regard to these men who were solely responsible for saving_ ”

(5) Their first encounter begins on page 26 of the first volume of the Dresden Files, commonly known as Storm Front.

“'These two great men', huh? Shit. You sound just like Dr. Carpenter. She's gaga over the whole 'Marcone and Dresden were lovers of epic epicness' thing.”

I swatted at Dylan over my shoulder and hit save. 

“It's a valid angle on the relationship. Neither one of them ever married and they wound up living together in the Fort near the end of Baron Marcone's life. They were close. You've seen the pictures. That one interview where they were practically finishing each others' sentences and- You know what? Fuck it. If you don't want to admit to reality, you don't have to. Why'd my mother even let you in anyway?”

“'Baron Marcone'.” Dylan snorted and flopped down onto my bed. “The man's been dead for what? A hundred years? I think you can drop the title Rose. He sure as hell doesn't care.”

“He deserves the respect.” I turned my head away as I felt the heat crawling up my cheeks. “He and Warden Dresden saved the world. Reality. All of- _everything_.”

“Ooohhhh...” He made kissy noises and puckered his lips up until he looked like a carp. “Oh _Baron_! You're so _strong_ and you have such a big... _gun_...”

I slammed my history book down beside Dylan's head, just short of clipping his stupid nose. “Get your shoes off my sheets asshat.”

“Whatever.” He swung his feet off the bed and slapped at the edge of my skirt, making it swing against my knees. I kicked him lightly in the shin. “So. You wanna hear my brilliant plan to get us all A's?”

“If it involves trying to break through the schools firewall again, no.”

“No. It's so, so much better than that.” He grinned, obviously feeling clever and pleased with himself. “We find the island. We find Demonreach and we-”

I laughed, cutting him off. “Seriously? Do you have any idea what that island does to people? There's a reason it was taken off the maps. Again. The last guy who tried to make a living giving tours of that place went insane. That was fifty years ago and they erased Demonreach after that. It's dangerous.”

“Bull. Shit.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows that hauntings need energy in order to keep going. Demonreach has been vacant for a hundred years, aside from that one guy. Even if there was ever anything strange about it, it's dead by now.”

“Then what's the point of going out there?” Oh, but I knew. Photos of the Tower and the Warden's House. Video. EVPs. There would almost have to be enough residual energy for that much, even if the island would be mostly dead. Even if we didn't get any evidence, the attempt would add one hell of a punch to our final papers.

“Look. I thought you, seeing as how you're their biggest stalker- oh, sorry. Fan. I meant fan. As the biggest Baron and Warden history fangirl around I figured you'd jump at the chance to touch Demonreach. Maybe even find some artifacts at the Tower. But if you're not interested...”

“I didn't- Okay. I did say that. But you know I'd sell a kidney to get a chance at some undiscovered material. It doesn't matter though, because no one knows where Demonreach is.”

“What if I could find out?”

“If you can find Demonreach I'll convince my brother to date you. And I'll come with. To the island. Not the date. There are so many, many things about my brothers dating life I don't need to know.”

Dylan's face lit up at the prospect of finally getting a date with Rob. “You're on.”

~

“I am a fucking moron. A total idiot. Never, ever, ever dare Dylan. That's been the rule since goddamn kindergarten.” I gripped the railing on the side of the boat and tried not to puke. It wasn't the waves, though they were high and Rob was a shitty driver. Captain. Whatever. 

We were going to an island that ate people. Ate them. Drove them crazy or just made them vanish without a trace. At night, because that was just the best time to do stupid shit like this. That was what made me want to throw up.

“You didn't have to come.” Josh leaned in close so I could hear him over the noise of the engine. The boat had a headlight and I could just see the ancient buoy that marked the safe passage into the waters around Demonreach. I shuddered and leaned into Josh a little, turning my head so I could see his eyes. The darkness made it hard to tell, but I knew they were a deep green.

“And let you idiots trample all over the most important unexplored Dresden location ever? I don't think so.” Rob slowed the boat down until we were almost coasting past the reef and into the range of Demonreach. I pried my fingers off of the railing and stood to get a better look. It was hard to see, of course, but I could just make out the dark outline of the Tower against the night sky. Excitement took my breath away. I'd half thought that Dylan's map would take us to some random island in the middle of Lake Michigan.

But the Tower was there. I dropped to my knees and dug around in my backpack, yanking out my flashlight and the old style compass I'd brought along. The needle spun crazily and I cheered, shaking the thing in the air. 

“Rose?”

“This is it! Look at the compass!” I tossed it at Josh and then yanked my phone out of my pocket. It buzzed and sparked when I pushed the button, then the screen went black and it died. “My phone died! And the Tower!”

“I told you.” Dylan ruffled his hand through my hair, earning him a sharp jab in the side with my flashlight. Pam tapped her own phone and grumbled when it didn't work at all. 

“Fine. I was wrong, you were right. You win.” I hugged Dylan from behind. “Assuming we don't get killed tonight I will never, ever forget this.”

My excitement lasted until we were actually standing on the beach. The floating dock was still intact, though it had clearly not been used in a very long time. Some of the wood was starting to rot but it was safe enough. We tied off to it, made sure we had all our equipment and then hurried over the swaying dock until we could jump the small gap where the wood had completely fallen away and land on the hard sand.

As my boots touched down I stumbled and fell in an awkward little crouch. Something beneath the top layer of sand, probably a shell, jabbed into the soft skin of my palm. I cursed and stood up, bringing my hand up close to my face. There wasn't any blood, but even just using the moonlight I could see the dent it had made and the blood pooling beneath my skin. It ached sharply and the nervous fear I'd felt since Dylan had shown up at my job a week ago with a photocopied chart of the Lake returned in full force.

Demonreach.

I scanned the treeline, waiting. Something was there and it was watching us. I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. There was no reason for my sudden, bone deep certainty that something had taken notice of us and that it was not happy. A breeze stirred the tops of the trees, cut across the open space of the beach with a surprising sharpness. I pulled my jacket closed and zipped it up, glad for its weight.

“Right. Let's get what we can from here. Rose, you've got photo patrol, alright?” I nodded without turning to look at Dylan. Part of me felt certain that if I turned my back on the woods whatever was watching us would rush out and get me. I tried to shake it off as Dylan divided up the tasks and we started recording, but I couldn't. 

No matter how many times I told myself that it was silly and that I was being a kid, I couldn't make the fear go away. I took my pictures, hoping that at least half of them would come out in spite of the anti-tech effects of Demonreach and I stuck close to Josh. He and Pam were taking samples of the sand and making notes.

When I glanced down I could see that Pam's writing was not as neat as it usually was. There was a fine shake to it that made it dip and rise over the page. My brother and Dylan were slowly working their way closer and closer to the tree line, scanning for energy signatures and working an EVP session. 

“Hey!” My voice was shocking in the silence of the night. Everyone looked at me, their gazes combined with the overwhelming _watched_ feeling I couldn't get rid of and made me want to turn and run back to the boat. To leave the island and never think about it again. 

I'd never hear the end of it, and I knew I'd never find the nerve to come out here again. If I left now, that would be it. I would never see the Tower. Never see the spot where Baron Marcone had died. Never get to touch the stones that had shielded Knight Murphy and Lord Hendricks from the last, desperate attacks of the Denarians. 

“What is it?” Rob came jogging over the beach to me and I wanted to shout at him to stop running. It was dark out here. He could trip and break something so easily...

“I just-” Want to go home. “We should stick together. Demonreach is large enough we could get lost if we're not careful.”

There were sounds of agreement all around and I had to wonder if everyone was feeling the same need to be somewhere else that I was. 

We took another ten minutes to get all the information we could from the beach, then we moved as a unit to the tree line. I'd drawn a rough map of the island based on the references in the files, but then those had been written down a hundred years ago and some things had changed. The brush had grown thicker, the trees larger. They'd covered up the entrance to the small path that led to the stone stairs.

Pam was the one who stumbled on the remains of the path. She'd been pacing along the trees, staying far enough away that someone would have to come out of the trees to grab her I noted, when she screamed and fell sideways into the woods. We all rushed to her, pulling her free of the branches that seemed to claw and clutch at her. 

It was only as we got her on her feet that we noticed that a few feet into the trees the brush was much thinner in a long line that led deeper into the interior of the island. 

“You found the path! Way to go!”

“No. Hell no. Did you guys see that? The-” Pam looked around wildly, searching for something. “There was a cat. Huge. It jumped at me, that's why I fell!” 

We all looked at one another and shook our heads. None of us had seen a cat. Or any kind of wildlife for that matter. Pam went pale as she realized none of us were going to be able to back her up.

“Holy shit.” Her voice was tiny. “It was his cat. Mister. It had to be his ghost!” Pam's fear faded, replaced with elation. I wished I could join her. Dylan's idea that the island would be dead and harmless was total bunk. If there was a ghost cat running around the island was very much alive and kicking. I didn't feel any of the excitement I could see on my friends faces. They'd stopped taking the stories of Demonreach seriously years ago. I hadn't. I still had terrible dreams about the island. About trees that came to life and wrapped me in their roots, burying me in the earth as I tried to scream and could only breathe in dirt. The worst part of the dreams wasn't the crushing moist weight of the earth all around me and in my lungs, burning and scratching as I tried to pull in air. It was the way it just went on and on and on. I never managed to die in my nightmares. I just laid there, trapped, unable to fight, unable to breathe. My mouth and throat packed with dirt as I tried to scream.

“Maybe we should go back.” But no one was listening to me now. Dylan and Josh were tearing at the rest of the bushes blocking the path. Pam and Rob were talking, gesturing at what I guessed was the path she'd seen the ghost take.

Something moved behind me. I didn't scream; that would have required air and all of that had gone out of my lungs when my throat closed up in terror. I spun around, snapping pictures as I did on reflex. There was nothing there. My organs all tried to crawl up into my chest as I gasped in air. Nothing. Maybe it had been the wind? My imagination running wild? Thinking about the nightmares did that to me. Made everything seem terrifying.

“Rose?”

“I can't do this. I'm going back to the boat.”

“No. You said it yourself, we need to stick together.” Dylan wrapped his arms around me in a hug. “The island is dead Rose. All that's left are ghosts. Echoes. They can't hurt us.”

“Liar.” I knew he knew the truth as well as I did. Strong enough ghosts could do a lot of damage. “The island isn't dead.”

“You can go back to the boat if you want. We're not going to make you do anything you're not comfortable with. But we're going up. And that means you'll have to sit there by yourself until we get back.” 

Dread and the instinctive fear of being alone in an unknown and hostile place stabbed me in the gut. I thought I would be safe from the island on the boat, but I wasn't sure. And even if I was safe, they wouldn't be. Was it worse to go with them and maybe drag them down with my fears or to let them run off into danger that none of them saw?

“I'll protect you.” Pam shoved Dylan away and slid her arm through mine. I smiled nervously at her and found her hand, squeezing it in appreciation. “Stick with me kid and you'll be fine.”

I held onto Pam's hand for as long as I could. The climb up the path and then the stone stairway wasn't rough, but eventually the path became too narrow with reaching branches for us to keep in contact. Josh trudged up behind me, his breathing a comforting noise in the utter silence of the forest. 

My legs burned, the straps of my backpack digging into my shoulders through the padding of my jacket and my shirt. Pam turned to look back at me once or twice, her teeth white in the shadows. A half hour climb saw us coming out of the forest into a clearing at the top of the hill. I almost ran into Pam's back as I came up the last few steps. She had stopped at the top, frozen.

“What-” I stepped around her, the brush pressing at the backs of my calves, trying to make room for Josh to get off the stairway behind me. He did, his body a heavy presence at my side. 

I followed Pam's gaze to where she was staring. Rob, Dylan and Josh stood further into the open clearing in front of us. They were staring at the Warden's House. And the huge bonfire that was burning in the open ruin of the Tower. 

“That- we would have seen that from the beach.” Josh's voice was heavy, just barely loud enough to carry back to me. I felt a hand slide up beneath my jacket, seeking warmth. It was cold even through my shirt. And it was then, feeling that cold touch on my back and looking right at Josh where he stood two hundred or so feet in front of me that it hit me. 

Josh was over there. Everyone was accounted for. I could see them all.

So who was standing beside me? Who had been climbing up the stairs behind me?

I didn't want to look. I was shaking, too frightened to make a sound. A cold wind whipped around me in a tight column as my head turned without my permission. 

There was a man standing at my side. Taller than me, with dark hair and pale skin. His eyes burned green. Literally, _burned_ with inner fire. He smiled as I faced him, threw his head back and laughed. I could hear everyone shouting, reacting to the laughter but I couldn't look away.

His face melted, flew away into wisps of smoke until all that was left was a floating, glowing skull. The eyes still burned that same bright green as the skull floated in the air. I could finally scream as the skull flew at me. I dropped to the ground, scrambling at the soft dirt and the leaves that covered the clearing.

I didn't care about the others anymore. I didn't care about anything but getting away.

I got to my feet and I ran, praying that I didn't trip and kill myself on the stairs. I didn't want to join the spirits that were trapped here.

~

I watched the kids run from the clearing. Long after they left my physical sight I tracked their progress through Demonreach. Once I felt them hit the beach I dropped the veil and snuffed the bonfire with a thought.

“They made it further than the last batch. All the way up the hill.”

“Either the kids are getting bolder or we're losing our touch.” John swirled around me in a spiral of white and green lights, not bothering to put another body together for himself.

“Memories fade. They hear the stories but they don't believe anymore.” I opened the door to the keep and we stepped through into the warmth of our house. John spun away from me as I set my staff against the doorway and shrugged out of my cloak. I caught the very end of his lights as he funneled himself back into his skull where it sat on the mantle over the fireplace.

Bob's skull sat beside his, eyelights dark. He and John were fighting over something they wouldn't tell me about and refused to work together, forcing me to alternate between the two of them. John's green eyes sparked to life in the hollows of his skull. 

I picked it up, running my hands over the etched spell work on the bone.

“That was good, the whole joining the group thing. Classic.”

“Sometimes the old ways are the best.”


End file.
